Be your man
by heggyy
Summary: Neville has finally had the bottle to ask Luna out.


Quidditch League Round 11

A line from the song "I want to hold your hand" (Beatles), and I'm using "You'll let me be your man"

Prompts:

3: Dance between two characters

6: Blink

7: Story takes place in one room

Blink. Swallow. Try not to faint.

Blink. Swallow. Try not to faint.

Blink. Swallow. Try not to faint.

She's coming over.

Blink. Swallow. Try not to faint.

She's getting closer, her sunny yellow dress the only one among the blues and pinks and blacks that pale in comparison.

Finally she reaches him, and he stares at her, his body frozen. He's forgotten to blink. He's forgotten to swallow. Will he faint?

"Would you like a drink?" Luna's sunny voice asks, the intonation just making him want to smile. "Neville?"

Neville shakes his head quickly. "I'm – I'm fine thanks." Finally he swallows, trying to get past the huge lump in his throat.

"Oh. Okay," she replies, taking a sip of her drink, which is bright green in colour, and smells like Gillyweed. "This is the first ball I've been to with Gillyweed brew. It's very good."

Neville nods politely, his mind scanning his entire life to think of something intelligent to say. Suddenly nothing seems right.

"That's what Harry used for the Triwizard Tournament. Gillyweed."

She nods sagely. "Yes. I remember that. Everyone laughed at him at first, but then he came second. It was very impressive."

Neville doesn't even try to think of something to reply to that, instead turning to face the large room full of people.

"Doesn't everyone look nice?"

"They've done it very prettily. So Christmassy and special."

Neville can agree with this. The Great Hall has been decadently decked out with Christmas trees that scraped the high ceiling decorated with fireflies, great ice sculptures of unicorns and swans, silver clad sylphs to serve round drinks and snacks, and the ceiling must be bewitched for tiny snowflakes coat every surface, including Luna's delicate blonde eyelashes.

They stand in silence for a few moments, Neville slowly turning a deeper shade of red. Why can he think of nothing to say? He finally bottled up the courage to ask her to the ball and now she was going to get bored of him!

He steels herself and turns to her. "Luna? Would you like to dance?"

She smiles her delicate smile that seems to be almost laughing.

"Of course. I love this song."

Neville leads the way to the large dance floor, where girls are being swirled around by their partners. Nobody is stepping on each other's toes.

They face each other and there is the awkward scramble to find the right position as the tune dies down for the next track, though Luna looks unperturbed. Then the music starts swirling into a quick waltz, and around them couples move like clockwork. Luna tugs them gently to one side, smiling up at Neville, whose mouth is hung open in concentration.

He doesn't want to admit that he has spent hours practising for this. That Ginny had taken him to a quiet classroom at lunch and taught him where to put his hands and how to avoid tripping over your partner. He didn't want to explain to Luna how Dean and Seamus had taught him etiquette for drinks, and what not to talk about, and why he shouldn't drone on about Herbology. And that Hermione had laughed when he asked quietly what he should wear, but taken him Gladrag's Wizard wear in Hogsmeade to pick out the perfect dress robes.

But Luna doesn't say anything, just looking around happily, and subtly leading Neville on, so he feels like he's in control.

Eventually Neville speaks.

"Luna, I think. I think. I think you look beautiful tonight."

Luna smiles. "Thank you Neville. You look lovely too. Hermione has good taste."

Neville glances at her, but she's not joking.

"Luna, I've really enjoyed spending time with you this evening."

Luna looks solemnly back.

"And I was wondering whether you would like to see each other on a more frequent basis."

"What do you mean?" Luna asks, "We see each other in Herbology and Charms. And the DA of course."

"Yes," Neville says desperately, wishing he had never broached the subject. "But never alone. Never together like an item."

"You're asking me out?" Luna says seriously, looking up into Neville's nervous gaze.

"Umm...yes I guess I am."

"Well why didn't you say so? It would be a great honour to go out with you Neville Longbottom."  
Neville blushes a deep beetroot colour, clashing nastily with his deep amber dress robes.

"Thanks."

They haven't noticed that the music had turned to a fast fox trot, and that they were slicing up the other couples as they continue on their path until they nearly trip over a table. This brings them to their senses and they pull apart.

"Do you want to dance again?" Neville asks politely.

Luna shook her head. "I like talking to you."

They sit down together at one of the tables that have been left, only discarded glasses left. Conversation does not flow naturally.

"You're very quiet tonight." Luna remarks, in her usual oblivious way. "Have the Wrackspurts got you?"

Neville grins and nods. "Yeah. A nice big Wrackspurt."

Luna turns to Neville seriously. "They're very dangerous you know. You mustn't joke. If you've got them we must go to the Hospital Wing immediately."

Neville shakes his head. "No. I'm fine. And I don't want to leave this room for anything."


End file.
